


Discovery

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: A rainy day spent inside with a book prompts Merle to think about her own history, and seek out the village where she was born. Ruhm accompanies her into the Chatal Mountains, where they happen upon a beast village, and Merle must confront difficult truths about the harsh treatment beastpeople have endured.
Relationships: Merle & Original Female Character, Merle & Ruhm
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second entry for Yearly Esca Pic'n'Fic. The theme is "History," and this is a response to QuietDuna's [beautiful Merle drawing](https://quietduna.tumblr.com/post/618914416027697152/my-drawing-for-yearlyesca-history-merle).
> 
> I loved finally getting a chance to write Merle and do some worldbuilding for the beastpeople. Thanks for the inspiration, Duna!

Fanelia was not built in a day. Trying to reconstruct buildings, streets, markets, and fields from memories was a momentous task, one that Van was unable to face alone. He insisted it was his responsibility, but it was clear he had blind spots from living in the castle most of his life, and so did Merle. Ruhm, being more familiar with the common people and having a shockingly detailed memory, helped Van draft many of the maps and plans. That hidden architectural talent meant that the help Dryden offered, though appreciated, wasn’t needed, and with the departure of the Asturian delegation sent by the regent, they could finally begin rebuilding their country—their home—up from its charred ruins.

A much more selfless king than he’d used to be, Van wanted to start with the houses in town. But his people insisted on the castle going up first, meaning that it was finished far before construction on any other buildings began. The people in town lived in shelters and lean-tos made out of the skeletons of houses that had used to stand in the lively streets, while Van, Merle, Ruhm, and the advisors and staff stayed inside the castle. It wasn’t fair, but that wasn’t Merle’s first thought when it was pouring rain outside, and she was just thankful to stay dry.

Their new room at the castle, a reimagining of the one she and Van had shared as children, could never be the same as their childhood room, but it had begun to feel more like home recently. Not just because swords sat on a weapon rack that leaned against the wall or because she’d stowed her stash of found items underneath the bed, but also because Dryden had donated quite a few books to them. Some of them were new, but most had come from a list of titles that Van and Merle had made together—titles that Balgus had accumulated over the years via his various purchases at the market downtown or in Palas. Aside from the few books he’d sent to Allen, all of Balgus’ original library had burned with the castle, along with the small archives containing all of the remaining Fanelian scrolls. Dryden informed Van those could be reproduced by the meticulous hands of Asturian scholars, but Van seemed to have little interest in that generous offer.

The books were more interesting anyway. Novels, biographies, histories, geography books, and maps filled the little four-shelf bookshelf next to the window. And on a day like today, with the rain steadily falling outside and Van and Ruhm busy revising their architectural plans, it was nice to finally get some peace and quiet and sink her teeth into a big, long book: _The History of Atlantis._

Surprisingly, the information in the book was pretty close to what Hitomi had told them while they were in Atlantis. The book talked all about how Atlantis had originally been on Earth, and how the people of Atlantis had become greedy with their power, trying to turn human thought and emotion into reality and sprouting wings on their backs. When Earth turned its back on them, they used the power of their wishes to create the refuge of Gaea. Some of the Atlanteans came to Gaea and eventually became known as Draconians. But many of the first Gaeans were just like the humans who had walked the Earth. There were dragons, too, and people who looked like animals, theorized to have arisen when humans and animals collided during the creation of Gaea.

Though she hadn’t known the origin of the Draconians as a child, Merle had become familiar with the myth of the beastpeople. She couldn’t remember if it had been Balgus or Ruhm who had told her and Van, but she remembered the story of the first beast, a wandering, lonely wolf created accidently when a wolf and a human collided at high speed. Eventually, the wolfman met a lionman, and the two beastpeople wandered Gaea breathing the spirit of humans into the animals that remained from Earth. Just like those two, their descendants had become nomadic. Though they settled in small villages, they were eventually forced to leave. That reminded her of what she was currently reading about the Draconians. Though they numbered very few even from the beginning of their time on Gaea, they’d had to go into hiding and blend in with the humans of Gaea because their wings were associated with such cursed suffering. But why had the beasts had to roam? Had they suffered, just like the Draconians?

Merle didn’t know what other beasts had experienced. But she remembered getting caught underfoot at the market like no one knew she was there, and how a human merchant had snapped at her, and how Millerna had played with her tail in the carriage to the castle like it was a toy and not part of her body. She remembered how the twin Guymelef pilots had left Van alone, not because he had been afraid but because they had seen her, and she was _a cat, after all_. And most of all, though she had always been by Van’s side, she had known from her earliest memories that she was not the same as Balgus, Van, or Van’s mother or brother. Balgus had told her that he’d found her in the mountains, and when she’d asked where she’d come from, he’d told her that the village where he found her had burned to the ground.

Where were her people now? Where had they gone? And where was she really from?

For now, she would keep reading the book, since it was still raining. But after the rain was gone, she needed to talk to Ruhm.

—

The rain let up that evening, and Van was clearly feeling the effects of being stuck inside all day. Since he couldn’t do any construction on damp ground, he excused himself for some fresh air and planned to come back later that evening. Merle pressed her face to the window and watched a white feather fall to the ground from above. Then she turned around and ran on all fours, down the hall to where Ruhm stayed, knocking once and barging in after barely waiting for him to say, “Come in.”

He smirked, sitting back in his chair. “What’s the little lady up to?”

The plan he and Van must have been working on that afternoon was still spread out on the desk. There were all kinds of advanced measuring gadgets and tools that Dryden had probably sold them. He really should have given them a discount, but maybe he was making up for all that money he had to spend to save Van’s life.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who’ll have any clue what I’m talking about.”

“What are we on, now? Something to do with the reconstruction?”

“No, this is something for me.”

“A selfish request from you? Color me surprised.”

Merle scowled, not without a bit of shame. “I know this isn’t the best time, because we’re so busy. And I know I’ve never allowed myself anything big if it wasn’t something that Lord Van wanted. But this is important.”

“If it’s something only I can do, then it must be urgent.”

“Enough!” She put her hands on her hips. “Do you know about beast villages?”

“Of course I do. I was born in one just outside the capital. Is there a certain village that interests you?”

“I want to find my village. I want to meet the people I came from, and the people who look like me.”

He hummed in thought. “Are you certain? These villages may not be receptive to outsiders. We’d smell pretty funny to them, and our mannerisms and speech would mark us as living mostly among humans.”

“But it’s not as if we’re not like them at all. I’m obviously a cat. You’re obviously a wolf.”

“You are right. What I mean is that they may not live like we do.”

“It’s not like they’re wild or uncivilized. Those villages are just like Fanelia. They’re just smaller and everyone’s a beastperson.”

“You’re quite determined to see one for yourself.”

“So you’ll take me?”

“Right now? No. We need to inform Lord Van, and you need to look at the map and figure out where you’re headed. If we just set out into the woods without any guidance, we’ll be lost in moments.”

“But if I wait too long, I’m going to get too wrapped up in helping out and I won’t want to leave home!”

“I see.” Ruhm smirked. “You’re just as impulsive as he is.”

Merle flashed her claws, though she knew he was right. She watched as he reached for the rolled-up maps in the pigeonholes of his desk, then knelt on the floor and rolled them out. “Lucky for you, Balgus did tell me the approximate location of your village. But there’s no guarantee it’s in the same place as it was eleven years ago.”

She narrowed her eyes, squinting at the blurred mountains on the map. These were copies of some of the maps that had been used aboard the _Crusade_ , but some of them must have gotten wet in transit. The tip of Ruhm’s filed claw pointed to a small section of mountains on the map labeled in Gaean and Asturian script as _Chatal Mountains_.

“The Chatal Mountains. Sounds familiar.” Balgus must have mentioned it to her before, too.

“Historically, the mountains were the domain of many catperson villages. But some of my dog friends tell me that the cats were driven out by poachers.”

“Poachers?” She wrinkled her nose. The word itself sounded kind of gross.

“No one ever told you about poachers?” He frowned, rolling the map back up. “I suppose it wasn’t really ever a concern for you. Not a big concern for us wolves either. Though our coats are warm, they don’t go for a high enough price to warrant dealing with a whole pack.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s a discussion best saved for later,” was his quick answer. He was always so calm, so she was shocked by his voice suddenly faltering.

“Weird,” she muttered. “Are we going? To the Chatal Mountains?”

“We can begin at dawn. We should journey by daylight. And you’ll have to tell Van before we set off, so talk to him when he comes back.”

“But what if he says no?”

“If you were going by yourself, he’d likely say no. But I’ll be accompanying you, and he knows he can trust me.”

“Are you saying he doesn’t trust me?! Jerk!”

Ruhm laughed. “I didn’t _say_ it!”

“Whatever!” Merle turned around and scampered off to find Van, though she couldn’t shake the chill that came over her when she remembered what Ruhm had said about the “poachers” and his coat not going for a high price. She hoped he hadn’t meant what she thought he did, but for now, she had to focus on the journey ahead.

—

Van told her and Ruhm to be careful, and to run away and save themselves if they got into trouble. The old reckless Van might have told them to keep fighting, but now he recognized there was no need to endanger a life. Ruhm took a shortsword along, and Van reluctantly allowed Merle her dagger. She’d been training with one dagger and she hoped to be able to wield two.

With relations between Asturia and Fanelia calmer than they had ever been, there was little to fear on the border. While Castelo was being rebuilt, Allen and his men could relax knowing that the King of Fanelia would never threaten their country. Merle and Ruhm stayed overnight two days after their departure. Allen asked about Van and Fanelia, and Merle told him the rebuilding was going fine. Then he asked if there was any word from Hitomi, and on that front Merle could never really be sure. She didn’t like to pry too much into those two’s personal business, but she’d suspected for a while that “going out for air” meant “going to see Hitomi.” Ruhm drank and joked with Allen’s men, getting along famously with the rough-around-the-edges types in his ranks, and Gaddes in particular hung around with him all evening. Ruhm didn’t want to leave, he’d hit it off so well with the guy, but they had to move on.

The Chatal Mountains weren’t as cold or steep as she’d expected. At the foot of the mountains, the hills were lightly forested, covered by flat green grass and wildflowers. But the woods became thick as they went deeper into the mountains, and a light fog set in, along with a drizzle. She didn’t whine about getting wet, but Ruhm insisted on lending her an old cloak of Folken’s, retrieved from the last of his belongings left behind in Palas, and she accepted it. She wasn’t used to such steep ground, so they had to break a few times to find food and shelter, especially when the colder night set in.

A few days’ journey left her stomach cramping with hunger, and she still smelled nothing unfamiliar or strange, only the smells of the woods and her traveling companion. Would they find a village soon? And would it be a village of cats? She hoped they’d come upon something, otherwise she’d have to turn back around and go to Fanelia knowing that there really wasn’t anyone like her left out there. There had to be other cats like her, didn’t there? Like those twins piloting the Guymelefs, the twins who had stayed with Folken in Zaibach. Had they come from her village, too?

The forest was all starting to look the same, blurring together in her vision, Folken’s cloak dirty and wet and cold against her shoulders when the crunching of leaves underneath Ruhm’s feet suddenly stopped.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

He had clearly caught on to a scent, sniffing the air around him, his ears twitching. She had never seen him act or look so much like a beastperson before. Sometimes he was so _normal_ , like when he’d drunk beer and laughed with Allen’s men, she forgot he was really a wolf.

“No,” she said, though she breathed in deep through her nose to try and catch on to what he smelled.

“There’s a fire going.”

She breathed deeper, listened closer. Then she heard the faint crackling of a fire, someone’s soft and careful footsteps.

“Someone’s there.”

He nodded. Then he turned toward the source of the smell and looked over his shoulder at her. “Stay close.”

She followed him closely through the thick bushes. As she approached the smell of smoke intensified. It was accompanied by the rich, thick, cloying smell of sweet red wine, with cinnamon and spices and lemons and oranges. Underneath lurked the smell of wet fur, and another scent she couldn’t put words to. She knew how fear and anger and happiness smelled, but this was something else entirely and it was impossible to name. The scent of the wine became overwhelming until her head spun with it, just as the brush gave way to a flat dirt clearing.

First, she saw the fire, and the giant pot over top of it. The dark red, steaming liquid inside that had given rise to that wonderful sweet smell was cooking inside. At the fire stood a girl about her height. She wore clothes much like the country clothes people wore in Fanelia, a plain green tunic that came to her knees. She had long, curly brown fur and floppy ears, and her snout ended in a delicate point. Underneath the skirt of her tunic, her long brown tail wagged gently back and forth. Beside her, a man about Ruhm’s height smiled over the fire. He had short, white and brown fur, but the same floppy ears, and smiled as he looked over the wine.

Beyond the fire stood a dozen houses. Dogs had gathered outside, talking, laughing, and working. One woman scrubbing clothes in a washtub, a human trader with a cart of books talking to a small child holding his mother’s hand, and a blacksmith clanging away at his work, his ears hidden underneath his bandana as he panted, tongue sticking out.

The only thing she could think was, _Dogs_!

And she had barely thought it before the brown-furred girl had come right up to her, inspecting her with a frown.

“Heavens above! You two must have come a really long way!” She spoke quickly, her voice short and peppy, and had a thick Asturian accent. “Haran, do we have a place for these people at tonight’s feast?”

The brown-and-white dogman’s face lit up with shock. He started speaking Asturian, and Merle couldn’t really understand most of what he was saying. Something about being tired.

“ _Parla Faneliese_?” Ruhm asked. “Or if you can speak Gaean…”

“Oh, my bad!” the man said. “Pardon me, I shouldn’t have assumed—after all, you are a wolf. It’s just that the girl, well, she looks very Asturian.”

“I have a name. It’s ‘Merle.’ And what do you mean by ‘Asturian’?”

“Have you heard of the village of Esvale?” the girl said.

“Esvale? Is this Esvale?”

She smiled. “No, this is Isselt. But the names sound similar, don’t they? You’re a cat, so you must have been looking for Esvale, right?”

Merle looked up at Ruhm, who met her eyes. She raised her eyebrows.

“Sadly,” the girl cut in, making Merle face her, “Esvale is no more. The last cats were driven out of the mountains years ago.”

Merle gasped. “What?!”

“Oh, you don’t know? Why don’t you sit down? Once the sun goes down, you can hear all about the story of Isselt and Esvale.”

Ruhm set a hand on her shoulder. His fur bristled slightly.

“Did you drive the cats out?” Merle asked, feeling her own fur bristling. She hadn’t lived among beastpeople, but she knew one thing. Cats and dogs weren’t meant to mix.

The girl’s face fell. “Oh, you really _don’t_ know. I’m so sorry. What was your name? Merle?” She offered her paw. “I’m Briya, and this is Haran. He always makes the glowing wine when the history fire comes around every year.”

“I’m Ruhm,” Ruhm offered his paw to shake Briya’s hand. “This is Merle. We’re from Fanelia.”

“Nice to meet you.” Briya smiled, which made Merle’s stomach feel funny for some reason.

“The history fire?” she asked.

“We hold a history fire every year when the moon starts turning red and the weather gets colder. We tell the story of our two villages, which once lived in peace and harmony, how they were driven apart by the humans, and what happened after our village leaders got a message from the stars.”

Merle’s ears perked up. “And will I learn more about Esvale and the cats if I listen to your villages’ history?”

Briya nodded. “You’ll learn a lot. Actually, Haran gets to tell the story this year. I’m really happy! He was my dad’s friend for a long time, and he took me in after my parents started living and trading in Asturia.”

“I know the feeling. I was raised together with… Van, and an old man named Balgus looked after us.”

“Wow, you grew up with humans?” Briya’s eyes were wide. “Actually, Briya is my human name. You want to know my beast name? It’s Brisanaya!”

“Brisanaya,” Merle tried the name out. It sounded so light and airy and pretty. It fit her perfectly.

“Merle,” Ruhm chided. “You don’t use someone’s beast name without asking them first.”

“It’s okay!” Briya said before Merle could apologize. “I don’t mind, since you’re both beasts. Do either of you have a beast name?”

Her eyes were so bright and inquisitive. Merle felt bad letting her down.

“I rarely use it anymore, but mine is Ruhamuzu,” Ruhm said.

“Ruhamuzu? Ooh, how unique. I’ve never heard a wolf name before.” Briya beamed. “How about you, Merle?”

“I don’t have one. ‘Merle’ is the name I was given by Balgus, so I’ve never had a beast name.”

“That’s okay.” Briya didn’t seem disheartened at all. “Not all beasts do. Oh, look, everyone’s coming over! I’ll have to introduce you to our village leader, Cyrut.”

She linked her arm in Merle’s and dragged her to her feet just as a tall dog with silky red fur approached, dressed in a button down that barely fit around the thick fur at his neck and a pair of brown trousers and boots. His ears were pierced, and he wore a leather necklace with a metal medallion around his neck.

“Hello,” Merle said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I mean, good evening, sir.”

The intimidating dog looked her up and down, then spared a glance at Ruhm. She could see his wet nose twitch.

“You have traveled far,” he said. Then a smile spread across his muzzle. “You’re clearly exhausted. Allow us to feed you and keep you company until you can reach your destination.”

“We accept, sir,” Ruhm said, and Merle nodded in turn.

“Awesome!” Briya grinned, linking her hand in Merle’s. “Come on! I’ll show you around the village quick while Haran’s finishing up serving the wine. Now that everyone’s around the fire, this is the best time to take a look!”

Briya led Merle away from the fire and showed her all the houses, telling her who lived in each house and what their job was. Everyone worked together in the village. Some people helped grow crops; Briya showed her the field of vegetables and potatoes. One person was the baker; one person was a smith, making weapons if the village needed to defend itself; one person kept the water clean and brewed drinks and liquors; one person sewed, washed, and mended clothes; and so on. The village was totally self-sufficient, but now and then, a well-meaning trader stopped by to peddle books, which villagers appreciated, or meat, not knowing that their village had given up hunting to cultivate farming instead. Hunting was part of the past of the beast villages, Briya explained, but after what the humans had done to the villages, the beasts had given up hunting and turned to a vegetarian lifestyle.

Merle was about to ask what exactly the humans had done, but Briya seemed to know the question on her mind.

“You’ll get your answer about the humans,” she said. “Before we go back to the fire, why don’t you tell me about where you live?”

“I come from the country of Fanelia. It’s just one city, really. It’s in a valley, and most of the people there are farmers. It’s led by the King, Lord Van. Lord Van and I have been together since we were kids. I never left Fanelia until about a year ago, when a weird girl came here from the Mystic Moon. It’s a long story.”

Briya laughed. “That reminds me of what happened on the Lonely Night!”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll hear about it around the fire.” Briya smiled. “I’ve never seen a cat before, you know. So I wasn’t really sure what to expect. But you act a lot more like a cat than I thought you would for someone who grew up with humans!”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Like just now when I was holding your hand, you purred a little bit. I thought that was kind of funny and kind of cute.”

“What the?!” Merle felt her face turn hot. “I was not purring!”

“It’s just as I thought.” Briya sighed. “Cats really do belong with dogs. It’s a shame about our history.”

“I want to learn more,” Merle said decidedly.

“It’s back to the fire, then. Let’s go.”

She led Merle over to the fire, where she sat down next to Ruhm and was handed a cup with the spiced wine inside. Haran had finished his cup and sat with one leg folded, one upward, his elbow on his knee. He began telling the story.

“Before the humans came, Isselt and Esvale lived in peace, two separate villages. Isselt, the village of dogs, and Esvale, the village of cats. Isselt had the valley, and Esvale the mountains. They traded with each other, shared the knowledge unique to dogs and unique to cats. Some dogs and cats even intermarried. They were happy.

“And then the humans came. The humans hungered for land they didn’t own. First, they drove the dogs from Isselt up into the mountains. The dogs from Isselt had no choice but to begin hunting on land that wasn’t theirs. The Esvalians were unhappy. Not knowing the reason for this sudden invasion, the Esvalians retaliated against the Isseltians. The Strike, as we Isseltians call it, resulted in the Isseltians being almost completely wiped out. The Isseltians had to retreat and hide in the mountains while the Esvalians began planning to take the valley.

“Some Isseltians and Esvalians wanted to cooperate. They recognized the true enemy: the humans. But they were too late. The leaders of both villages realized this in the Lonely Night, when a girl from the Mystic Moon spoke to them, and she told them how one of them would be destroyed, and the other would survive. There was no way for both to survive, the girl said. And so each village turned inward.

“The Isseltians wanted to live. But the Esvalians refused to die. And so the Esvalians attacked the humans. They were driven back into defense, and they lived. But even as they lived, the humans never forgot that the Esvalians had attacked them. And so, one day, the humans came back. They destroyed Esvale, burning it to the ground, stripping the people of their lives, mangling their bodies. The humans ravaged Esvale through and through. But though they took the people, they left the mountains alone.

“It was because of the Esvalians’ sacrifice that we could return. Come back to their land. We must always be thankful for the land the cats of Esvale gave us, and remember the valley that we gave up to have our village safe in the mountains. We shall never forget our history as long as we live here.”

The dogs around the fire vocalized a low rumble that sounded like an amen. The wine was growing cold in the cup that Merle held, and though her heart raced when Briya held her hand and pressed her shoulder into hers, she continued to stare blankly into the fire, feeling too empty and shaken to cry.

—

Merle thanked Haran for the story, and Cyrut for his hospitality in welcoming outsiders, and Briya for showing her around. There had been nothing to worry about. The dogs had been kinder than any strangers she’d known. But she couldn’t live out here, or in any beast village. How could she go back to Fanelia either after hearing that?

She could hardly sleep that night, not because she’d taken the floor. So she got up, shaking Ruhm, holding him by the shoulders to wake him.

“We need to go,” she said.

“Without saying goodbye to that girlfriend of yours?” he mumbled groggily.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled low and cleared his throat. “Homesick?”

“Can I ask about the poachers now?”

“I thought you picked up on everything from that story.”

“I…” She paused, watching as he sat up and faced her. “Is it really true? Humans… hunt us? For our fur?”

He nodded gravely. When Merle remained silent, he said, “I believe that was what happened to your parents.”

“What?”

“Merle…” His expression fell. “If you really are from Esvale, then your village and your people are gone.”

“That’s—that’s ridiculous! I can’t be the only cat on Gaea. There were those two girls who worked for Folken! Weren’t they from Esvale, too?”

“Regardless of whether or not they were, they’re gone now, so you may be the last Esvalian.”

“No…” She shook her head. How could she be the only one to know what it was like? The only cat on Gaea? Was this how Van felt being the only Draconian on Gaea?

“There have to be cats in other places,” she said. “Cats aren’t rare. Neither are dogs. Don’t beasts wander? Maybe the Esvalians went somewhere else.”

“If the history is true, we may not find any Esvalians. You could be looking for years to find another cat.”

“You’re just saying that,” she spat.

Did she really want to give up here and go back to Fanelia? Or was she going to look for another Esvalian? Was she even an Esvalian herself? Where had her parents come from? Where had she come from?

“Or,” he said, “maybe we just need to travel further.”

She hesitated. If the twins had made it as far as Zaibach, that meant that cats could be anywhere else on Gaea. Maybe the Esvalians had scattered, just like she had ended up in Fanelia. Maybe she could bring them to Fanelia.

Wait a second.

“Fanelia is in a valley…” She folded her arms. “Do you think that the Isseltians lived in Fanelia?”

“Maybe. But would they really want to come back to Fanelia? It must have been years since they were driven out. They’ve gotten used to their life.”

“You’re right.”

“So now what?”

Merle thought about Van. How he was the last of his kind. She thought about how Briya had said she’d never seen a cat before, and about the history of Isselt and Esvale, and the dogs that had welcomed them into their village and let them stay with them and listen to their story.

“Isselt made a recovery. They survived. Now we have our own recovery to focus on.”

“Rebuilding Fanelia, yes.”

She frowned. “I didn’t know anything about Isselt or Esvale or cats or dogs or anything of what it means to be who I am. All I knew was living in Fanelia and doing whatever Lord Van wanted to do. And I…”

“And how do you feel now?”

“Fanelia will always be my home.”

“So that means?”

“I’m going to rebuild Fanelia first. And then we’ll be strong enough to protect the people of Isselt.”

“They can defend themselves. And they’re well-hidden.”

“But someone should be on their side. If anything ever happens, Fanelia should stand up for these people. Fanelians should know their history. Not just because of us, and not just for all the beasts who live in Fanelia. But because Lord Van knows what it’s like to be alone and outcast. And hated by humans.”

Ruhm studied her for a moment. Then he lowered his head with a content smile. “You’ve grown a lot since Balgus brought you back, Merle.”

“It’s not about growing up!” She was indignant. “It’s about knowing who I am.”

And now she was certain that while she’d never stop being Fanelian, she would always be a cat at heart, and have the will to survive of the cats of Esvale, who had once known what she now understood, that the kindness of the dogs of Isselt should never be cast aside.


End file.
